


No Time Better

by bnhasimpgirlTM



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Atsumu is sad, Fluff to Angst, Gen, Light Angst, implied major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28899012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bnhasimpgirlTM/pseuds/bnhasimpgirlTM
Summary: You and Atsumu have always shared a special spot- the blue bench on the roof. It's the place where you laughed, where you cried, and ultimately, where your love had ended, but Atsumu isn't ready for it to be over, not even close.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	No Time Better

**Author's Note:**

> Word Count: 784  
> Find me on Tumblr!: atsumumiyasimpgirltm and bnhasimpgirltm

Atsumu’s heavy steps thundered through the stairwell as he hustled up, the dim, yellow lights buzzing in the background. When he neared the top, a heavy, rusting steel door with a small window led to the roof, and with the energy of a toddler being given candy, Atsumu threw it open.

A strong breeze threatened to push Atsumu over, and when he looked to the left, he saw you, backlit by the slowly fading sunset, and sitting on a small wooden bench with cushions that you and him hauled up years ago. Atsumu used his hand to dust it off before sitting down next to you, the paint job pristine and good as new.

“How’s it goin’?” He asked the same way he did every day, with the same tapping of his fingers on the carving of your initials next to his. 

You slowly turned towards him, putting your elbow on the bench’s backrest and laughing. “How do you think I’m doing?” The bench creaked as you shifted your weight again.

“Same as always?” He guessed, crossing his legs, relaxing, and momentarily closing his eyes. It was pleasant and consistent: the cold touch of the railing that his hands rested on, and his breathing moving in tandem with yours. Atsumu reached out to grab your hand.

You moved away swiftly, folded your arms over your chest, and shook your head. The sun continued to set before your eyes, and the night began to creep nearer. It was almost time for you to go home.

“Atsumu,” you chided softly, hands folded into your lap. “When?” 

The tapping stopped. 

You blinked once and took an irritated breath. “When?” You repeated, this time in a more forceful tone. 

Atsumu picked at his cuticles, scratching away at his nails bitten to the bed. “Does it matter?” His words flared, and he was visibly irritated. 

A shake of your head at his insistence to not answer your question, and you were back to your normal self. 

“Well, every place has a story,” you looked to the sun. There was only a little piece of it left over the horizon. “How long will you remember this one?”

It was almost dark now, and Atsumu knew he was running out of time. You’d have to go back home after the sky blanketed black. 

“As long as you do,” he confirmed, attempting to turn you by the shoulders towards him. He didn’t need to, you locked eye contact with him before he could grab your shoulder. 

“Even after I’m gone?” You asked, glossy tears falling down your cheeks. The wind dried them quickly before they could fall onto the vibrant blue of the bench. 

Atsumu nodded, droplets coming from his own eyes. “Yeah,” he established. “Even after no one else does.” 

It was quiet for a second as you decided on what to say this evening, but not long enough to be awkward.

“Then my job here is finished.” You grinned, watching the last of the sun leave for the day. “Good night, Atsumu.”

Atsumu didn’t repeat it back, because if he did, you’d leave. He kept his eyes open as long as possible, but even before he needed to blink, the tears blurred his vision, and by the time he was able to wipe them away, you had left. 

He was brought back to reality when his hand caught on a splinter with chipped blue paint, and as he leaned on the metal railing caught the sour smell of rust.

His hand brushed over the engravings of initials on the bench, still prominent even after all the wear and tear of tough winter weather. 

For a second, he stopped to admire it, his breath catching in his throat as he traced his fingers through the dents. 

Atsumu got up to look over the railing. The only light source on the entire block was positioned directly below him, a small group of lit candles, each of them standing in solidarity.

_When_

The word rang through his head repeatedly, hitting him and beating him and breaking him down. 

The hyacinth in his hand, though it was just one single flower, felt heavy.

He dropped it over the railing, watching it fall into what seems like a plate of fire made by the candles, and watched as it began to shrivel and wilt, the natural process expedited by the inferno.

As Atsumu got off the blue bench, he dusted flakes of blue paint from his jeans. He gave it one last look before placing his hands in the pockets of his zip-up, opening the metal door again, and leaving the roof.

The hyacinth continued to burn. 

_When_

There was no time better than _now_.

  
  
  
  
  



End file.
